First UK drive: Mercedes-Benz GLC 250d

Which of the many Mercedes letter combinations is this?

The GLC, or C-class sized crossover. It’s a BMW X3 and Land Rover Discovery Sport rival that costs from around £35,000 and replaces the boxy old GLK, which wasn’t sold in the UK because its 4x4 system didn’t allow for right-hand drive.

So it’s plugging a massive hole in the Mercedes range then?

Indeed, and because it’s so late, you’d imagine Mercedes would’ve had a long time to get everything just so. And then along came the handsome new mini-Disco, offering seven seats in a class where the Audi Q5, BMW X3 and so on have only ever offered five. Talk about moving the goalposts.

No good as a family car then?

Well, if you’re going to need to transport more than three children regularly, then no, a five-seater car isn’t going to be much cop. Obviously. But if you don’t, there’s plenty to like about Merc’s late party arrival.

Like what? 

Like the interior. The dashboard comes straight out of the C-class, which is no bad thing – it’s a lovely environment brimming with attention to detail and touches that make passengers coo ‘ooh’ when they spy the speaker grilles or fiddle with the seat controls. It feels expensive, yet it’s not as dark inside as German cars used to be. And while it can’t seat as many people as a Land Rover, the infotainment system feels at least three centuries more up-to-date than JLR’s current efforts.

There’s a decent amount of space in the back, a 550-litre boot which is bang-on for the class, with a wide, low loading sill, and easily foldable seats. Which you’d expect, given all of these things can be found in a C-class estate. Likewise, the family-minded members of the TopGear team noted how easily child seats clip into the GLC’s Isofix points, and how the plethora of S-Class honed active safety aids don’t get caught out by parked cars and errant woodland animals as often as other nanny systems. This makes it quite a soothing car.

So, how does it tackle nasty British roads in a surprisingly mild British winter? 

Very nicely. We drove around in the sort of GLC spec that’ll appeal to image-conscious Brits: the more powerful 201bhp ‘250d’ four-cylinder diesel, shrouded in an AMG-line bodykit. It costs £38,925 before the box-ticking commences.

It wears 19-inch alloys, which in turn means a pattery ride that a C-class doesn’t struggle with, but accept that pay-off (which you have to with all crossovers, frankly) and it’s reasonably car-like. Mercedes is at pains to point out the GLC is the only car of its size to offer air suspension, but as it’s a) £1,495 to fit to your car, and b) likely to struggle with the small bumps in urban streets that air-shocks always hate, it’s not really worth your while. If you cared about ride quality that much, you’d leave the bling wheels.

On the regular suspension, the GLC doesn’t lean over awkwardly in corners – in fact, it feels rather agile, though the steering isn’t in any mood to tell you how much grip is left. This is a car where all the R&D cash has been thrown at isolating you from the forces involved in aiming a tall, 1,900kg car down a badly surfaced lane/Waitrose car park/school playing field.

It’s not fast though, is it?

No – you’d never know there’s supposedly 368lb ft under your right shoe. You could put that down to the standard nine-speed gearbox mellowing the power delivery with its many, many gear ratios, but the truth is even in other Mercedes which don’t have the gearbox from a mountain bike, this 2.1-litre diesel lacks the ‘outtamyway’ punch you expect. 

But you still like it?

A slightly limp-feeling powertrain aside, the GLC is a commendably likeable crossover. If you absolutely must have a C-class estate wearing high-heeled walking boots, this is a practical, well-finished and easy-going piece of kit. Which it ought to be, given how long Mercedes has had to crank it out.